


Epsilon Gets Stuck in a Microwave (and isn't very happy about it)

by epsiloneridani



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, and even that's very very mild, epsilon gets stuck in a microwave, no warnings really except for canon-typical language?, this came from a drabble prompt on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epsiloneridani/pseuds/epsiloneridani
Summary: Epsilon gets stuck in a microwave. Tucker is amused. Wash just wants some coffee. (tumblr prompt response)





	Epsilon Gets Stuck in a Microwave (and isn't very happy about it)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: canon-typical language

“Well, isn’t this just _great_.”

It’s not funny. It’s never been funny. But Tucker’s still standing there, staring with his hands pressed over his mouth and his shoulders shaking with barely-restrained shudders of laughter. Maybe he’d say _‘course it is_ if he could manage to speak more than half a syllable without collapsing forward with his arms wrapped around his stomach.

“Tucker, get me the hell _out_ of here.” The display flashes red, a blaring warning Tucker, being Tucker, does nothing to heed.

“No way, dude!” Tucker heaves. “This is the best the microwave’s worked in _years_.”

“ _I’ll boil Washington’s coffee._ ”

That gives Tucker pause. Washington without his coffee is not a beast anyone would ever want to confront, _especially_ not at whatever unholy hour he decided to reheat his sixteenth cup. “No,” he decides again. “Can’t do it.”

" _Tucker_.”

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t! What makes you think I know how this thing works?”

“Then get Grif! He spends enough time eating. Maybe he knows. Or Donut. Doesn’t he cook?”

“Just cuz he cooks doesn’t mean he knows how to take apart a microwave, genius.”

“What about—”

“You _really_ want me to ask Sarge?”

Epsilon pauses, considering. “Yeah, no,” he growls, a disembodied voice garbling through the microwave’s ill-suited speakers. The thing’s just meant to beep, not talk. He pauses, hesitating. “…Simmons?”

“He’ll probably call you _Computer_ and ask you to repli…something.”

“Nerd.”

“Yeah.”

Another ten seconds tick by. It’s the microwave’s clock. Or his temper. Probably his temper. “Hey, Tucker?”

“Yeah?”

“Still need outta here.”

“No way.”

“ _Tucker_.”

“I _told you_ —” Tucker starts. He doesn’t get the chance to finish. The display roars red, a raging beam; the microwave rattles, rattles, _rattles_ , screeching like a banshee from the deepest darkest depths of doom. The door slams – opens – slams – _opens_ – _slams—_

“What in the _hell?_ ”

Tucker’s just now acquired the sense to start backing away. Wash is standing there in the doorway. He hasn’t shaved in a week, there are bags under his eyes and his sleep clothes are wrinkled enough that Epsilon, still wreaking havoc on the reheater, could believe he’s actually been sleeping.

You know, or maybe not. He’s clutching a coffee cup. Wash rubs at his eyes, exhausted or exasperated or a bit of both darted with a dash of disbelief. “Tucker,” he says slowly, “what in the hell is wrong with the microwave?”

“It’s _Church_.”

“Church. Is in the microwave.”

“Do you think it does that by itself?”

“Sometimes I don’t know what to think,” Wash says dryly. The slamming stops and he sighs. “Right. Church is in the microwave.”

“What, you think I’m lying?”

“Tucker, how would that even _work?_ ”

“I don’t know—”

Epsilon screeches again, an ear-piercing shriek that makes Wash jump and Tucker yelp. “You know what?” Wash says, slamming the mug down on the counter. “It’s not worth it.”

“ _Hey!_ ” Epsilon barks. “Wash! Get me out of this.”

“Not worth it,” Wash repeats quickly, ducking out the kitchen. Tucker hesitates a second more and then hightails it toward the door too.

“Tucker! Get back here!... _Tucker!_ ”

\--


End file.
